


Diana vs. the Green-Eyed Monster

by spelldlikedevon



Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One-Shot, wondertrev
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 17:09:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11406828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spelldlikedevon/pseuds/spelldlikedevon
Summary: Steve lives. He and Diana are at a gala after the war, and she discovers how other women react to a handsome war-hero in their midst. Needless to say, she is not pleased.





	Diana vs. the Green-Eyed Monster

The worst part of the gala was the dancing. Certainly not dancing with Steve—she could never dislike being in his arms!—and not even dancing with other men. They were respectful to a man, no doubt thanks to the formidable reputation she had gained, and many were quite skilled on their feet. What Diana hated more than anything else was watching nearly every other woman in the room throw herself at the dashing Captain Trevor. It was a week after the war had ended, and England was celebrating in style. Anybody who was anybody had been invited to Buckingham Palace for the event, and as the heroes of the last battle, she, Steve, and the rest of the crew were in attendance. As far as she was concerned, Steve should have been in bed resting and not at a party, but she’d have had to tie him down to keep him from coming. Even with all the cuts and bruises on his face—souvenirs from the suicide mission that he’d managed, impossibly, to survive—he still looked dashing in his uniform. If anything, his injuries gave him a bold roguish look that she thought made him even more attractive. The only problem, she soon realized, was that every other woman in the room shared her feelings about Steve. Oh, they tried to be sly about it, but though Diana was new to the world of men she still possessed a woman’s intuition, and she saw straight through every little gesture. The shy smiles, the downcast eyes as they curtsied to him. The attempts to get just too close as he took their hands and drew them into dancing position. (She noted, with a rather savage satisfaction that surprised her in its intensity, that Steve was a master at holding a firm dancing frame and keeping the harpies at a respectable distance.) The way they seemed to laugh at everything he said. And the worst, the way they lingered. She saw how their hands would drift over his shoulder, down his arm as he released them after a dance. She saw how their eyes would follow him as he turned away after bowing. It made her sick. Thankfully, the steady stream of men asking her for dances kept her largely occupied, but in the moments when she found herself resting at the edge of the floor she couldn’t help but notice the machinations of these women. She completely trusted, Steve, though, and let him handle them on his own. _—He can take care of himself,_ she told herself firmly. _—I am not going to get involved_.

It wasn’t long before she found herself going back on her own words.

The woman was shockingly redheaded. Watching her move around the floor was like watching a tongue of flame flitting through the sea of bodies. She had been a late arrival, and quite quickly navigated her way over to Steve. Diana happened to be taking a break after a particularly spirited set with a young colonel, so she watched the whole scene unfurl. Steve was just turning away from his previous partner as the flame-headed woman stepped around one last person to stand in front of him. Diana saw him stop and gawk, then sweep the woman clean off her feet in a bear hug before setting her down and holding her by her shoulders at arm’s length. They chatted animatedly in the brief lull in the music, seeming to talk over each other in their excitement. After a brief interchange—during which his hands never left her shoulders except to make the occasional gesture, Diana noted sourly—he pulled the woman into another fierce hug. The music started up again and Steve made the most ridiculously elaborate bow to the woman, who laughed delightedly and dropped into an equally over-the-top curtsy. As Steve took her hand, the woman closed well beyond the bounds of propriety. Diana, her mood darkening by the second, noticed that Steve made no attempt to maneuver the woman away from himself as he circled his other arm around her waist. Diana felt a muscle jump in her jaw. The musical introduction finished, and all the couples on the floor whisked away in an elegant waltz. Steve was an excellent leader (of course), but this woman was also incredibly nimble on her feet and although Diana hated to admit it, the two made a stunning pair. She felt a reflexive stab of revulsion at “stunning pair” accurately describing Steve with any woman besides herself. It seemed as though the dance would never end. Diana saw more than one pair of heads bend together to whisper after Steve and his partner had floated by, no doubt commenting on the beauty of their dance. She thought she was going to be sick. At long last, the music came to a close and the dancers all bowed to one another. Diana drew a deep breath, trying to untangle the knot of fury in her belly. A small part of her brain tried to remind her that she trusted Steve without reservation. Then, the red-haired witch—Diana’s brain supplied this word before she could stop it—hooked her arm comfortably through Steve’s and steered him off the dance floor toward a waiter holding a tray of delicate champagne flutes. They each took a glass, exchanged a couple of words, then clinked the glasses and downed their contents, tossing their heads back in a synchronous motion that looked well-practiced. The two now stood, holding empty glasses and grinning at each other, and Diana snapped.

She moved from her corner and stalked her way towards the errant Captain Trevor, gathering her anger about her like the folds of a cloak. The guests in her path, sensing the growing thunderstorm within the young Amazon, shifted quickly out of her way as she moved through the crowd. The last of the crowd parted to show her Steve and the woman, still animatedly talking. As she opened her mouth to say gods only knew what, Steve, whose eye had caught the sudden motion of the crowd, glanced over and broke off mid-sentence.

“Diana!” he exclaimed, a brilliant smile breaking over his face that put her wrath on its heels. “There’s someone I want you to meet!” He closed the distance between them, bringing the strange woman with him. “Lizzie, Diana. Diana, this is Elizabeth Cunningham. We grew up together in the States, and she served as a communications operator in France.”

“So nice to meet you!” the woman—Elizabeth—extended her hand and Diana shook it reflexively, still off-balance. Elizabeth had a slender face thickly dusted with freckles and a rich, musical voice, but her handshake was firm and her palm was calloused. This woman was no delicate flower. She continued without waiting for a response from Diana. “They rather frown upon women going into combat, or I’d have been a pilot like _this_ guy.” She directed a playful jab at Steve’s shoulder. “So, I got into communications instead! Not quite as exciting as chasing down enemy pilots in a Sopwith, but—” she lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I _did_ get the chance to get my hands in the intelligence business, which is great fun.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously. Diana, whose experience with the intelligence business had involved six men with guns in a London back alley, wasn’t sure she agreed with Elizabeth’s assessment. “But you grew up on an island of _warrior women!_ Steve was just telling me about you. What I wouldn’t give to have that kind of training!”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Don’t let her fool you,” he said to Diana. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather meet in a dark alley _less_ , aside from maybe you. She’s one of the best hand-to-hand fighters I know, and a crack shot with a pistol.”

“Well,” Elizabeth continued, unfazed, “it’s nice to know there’s another woman in his life who can keep him honest!” Diana bristled at being referred to as “another woman” in Steve’s life. “Too many girls just fall all over themselves when they get around him.” She put on a simpering false voice. “‘Would you care to dance, Captain Trevor? My, you’re so strong, Captain Trevor! Is it true you shot down six enemy fighters in one engagement, Captain Trevor? How brave!’” She laughed as though it were the most preposterous thing in the world. “It’s a wonder he hasn’t got an ego the size of Texas!”

“With people like you and Etta, and now Diana, to keep me humble? Not a chance!” He smiled at Diana, and suddenly a flood of warmth was competing with the thunderstorm in her head. At that moment, a stuffy-looking old Frenchman in a dark suit who had been lurking nearby cleared his throat to get Elizabeth’s attention.

“Might I ‘ave ze honor of zis dance, mademoiselle?” he said, bowing stiffly.

“The honor is all mine, monsieur,” Elizabeth replied, suddenly demure as she dropped into a curtsy. Handing her empty glass to Steve, she took the Frenchman’s proffered arm, and as she glided away she fluttered her fingers at Diana and called, “Pleasure!” over her shoulder before she disappeared among the dancing couples.

Steve chuckled and shook his head as he watched her go. “Comes at you like a whirlwind, that one.”

“She is certainly…something.” Steve’s head turned sharply at the strained note in her voice, and he noticed for the first time how rigidly she was standing, and the smoldering in her eyes.

“What is it?” He drew her towards one of the balconies so they could talk in private.

Diana’s brain was whirling, reassessing, trying to let go of the rage that had filled her, but she found that it was like trying to get free of being tangled in a large blanket. Off balance, she sputtered. “I just…you were…and she’s so…!”

“Lizzie?” Steve was incredulous. “You were worried about _Lizzie_?” They emerged into the cool night air. He began to chuckle, though Diana couldn’t see what he found funny about the situation. “Diana, are you…” he paused, and it sounded like he was fighting to keep laughter out of his voice. “Are you _jealous_?”

“She _was_ very close to you,” she muttered rather sullenly, feeling her face warm and refusing to look at him.

“Hey…” his voice was suddenly soft, and the hand he placed under her chin to turn her face towards his was gentle. Blue eyes met brown, and she was staggered by the incredible tenderness there. “Lizzie is my best friend. We did everything together as kids. I haven’t seen her since we both joined up and got assigned to different divisions two years ago.” His hand was now warm against her cheek, and his eyes were starting to crinkle with amusement. “She actually embarked on a matchmaking crusade a year or so before we joined, and spent her time alternating between trying to set me up on dates and lamenting that no woman would ever be foolish enough to actually take me. She’s actually quite pleased that I’ve found someone who…how did she put it?…will ‘keep me in line.’” The smile that had been tugging at the corners stretched across his face, and Diana felt her anger slowly ebb away.

“I saw how all the women treated you tonight,” she said slowly. “I watched them simper and fawn and try to get too close to you, and I watched you deflect every single one of their advances. Then _she_ came along and…” Diana trailed off, looking away. Her voice was small when she continued. “I was so angry.”

“Hey,” he repeated, and she met his gaze again. “I love Lizzie dearly, and I hope you’ll come to love her as well, but you have nothing to worry about on that front.” He hesitated. “I actually tried to kiss her when I was sixteen.”

“Really?” Diana’s eyebrow arched.

He chuckled. “I’d started developing a crush on her, and I thought something magical would happen if we kissed. She stopped me the second she realized what I was trying. I believe her exact words were, ‘Dude! Just…no.’” Diana stared. “I couldn’t look her in the face for a solid week afterwards, and that was the end of that.” He grinned, and Diana felt herself slowly smile back at him.

“Dude,” she repeated musingly. “Just…no.”

“Don’t go getting any ideas, now!” Steve looked suddenly alarmed. She couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up. That was the exact reaction she’d been hoping for.

“You have nothing to worry about.” She reached up with both hands and pulled his face to hers.

When they separated some time later, she spoke again. “I believe I over-reacted.”

He shrugged grandly. “You didn’t react, technically. Lizzie didn’t give you much chance to get a word in edgewise. She does that.”

Diana smiled. “I think I’m really going to like this girl.”

“I certainly hope so.” He offered his arm, and she took it. “Let’s go find out.”

And they turned and went back inside.


End file.
